


Discovery

by Leo21Stargazer



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Spider-Man (Cartoon 2017), Spider-Man - Fandom
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Blood and Injury, First Kiss, Gay, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Soft Peter Parker, naked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:54:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28049571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leo21Stargazer/pseuds/Leo21Stargazer
Summary: After an explosion, Harry Osborn saves an injured Spider-Man from the aftermath, only to discover that Spider-Man is his best friend Peter Parker— who he is also secretly in love with.
Relationships: Harry Osborn & Peter Parker, Harry Osborn/Peter Parker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 94





	Discovery

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the dynamic Harry and Peter have in the Spider-Man 2017 cartoon, because they are definitely pinning over each other.

“What the hell, Peter,” Harry Osborn breathed as he hobbled into his suite with Spider-Man— no— Peter Parker whose arm was wrapped around Harry’s shoulder. 

“All in a day's work,” Peter tiredly smiled and slumped further into Harry. His limp was bad, a piece of shrapnel lodged into the side of his knee. 

Blood was getting everywhere. Not that Harry was worried about it getting onto his shirt because it was already seeping red, accompanied by a nasty stinging on his back. He was worried about the expensive Persian rug and how much it would cost to get blood out of. He would just have to get to the bed before any blood could drop.

Peter took his free hand and shoved the door closed as Harry began rushing them towards his king sized mattress. He grunted as Harry nearly threw him to the bed. 

Oh. The sight of his best friend on his bed made Harry flush, though the realization of the situation put a monumental downer on his mood. 

Peter Parker was Spider-Man. It made Harry’s head hurt just thinking about it. How dumb had he been these past years? Of course it had to be Peter, the last person he wanted it to be. 

“Are you gonna make me take this out myself, or…” Peter motioned to the metal piece in his knee with blood stained fingers. He was still dressed in his classic red and blue suit, but in the car ride to his suite he took what was left of his mask off his head. There were multiple bruises and cuts on his body from the explosion, one just below his left eye.

“Ah, no,” Harry cringed. He held the cut on his own arm and ran towards the bathroom. Once the first aid kit was in his hands Harry ran back out to his friend. Peter’s eyes were slowly closing, head tilting back as if he was about to fall asleep. “Hey, no. Stay with me, Pete.”

“Calm down,” Peter mumbled, “Just help me.”

Then Harry was removing the piece of shrapnel from Peter’s leg as the latter groaned. Once that was over with, Harry placed pressure on the knee to stop it’s bleeding. 

“Shit,” Peter hissed as he surveyed his own injury, “Is that going to need stitches?”

“Yeah, let’s stop you from bleeding all over my sheets first.” Harry took Peter’s gloved hand, “Hold this,” he said and placed Peter’s hand on his knee. Then he looked at the rest of the cuts. One was on his lower chest and two cuts were placed on his shoulders. 

Carefully, Harry helped Peter wedge out of the suit, bringing it down to Peter’s waist. The fabric was like no other beneath his fingertips. It wasn’t a spandex suit, Harry realized now, more like a surprisingly strong woven fiber. He stopped.

“What’s wrong,” Peter asked, noticing Harry’s hesitation. 

“Why should I be helping you?”

“Harry—“

“You’ve been lying to me about being Spider-Man!” Harry clenched his fists, “How long have you been him?”

Peter winced, “Three years, but I did it so I wouldn’t put you in danger, Harry.”

“Danger? That’s rich,” Harry scoffed. “You- you were there when my dad died. That was you who left him in that burning building!” 

“I tried to save him.”

“You didn’t try hard enough.” It was a low blow, but it was true. Norman Osborn died in that fire two years ago after going full Green Goblin and orchestrating a terrorist attack that killed nearly 30 people.

“He didn’t want to be saved. He- he told me to get everyone else out before the building collapsed,” Peter said, all Spider-Man humor gone from him, “I was only sixteen, Harry. I didn’t know what to do.”

Harry grappled with this information in his head. He still hadn't moved to help Peter’s wounds, but he unclenched his fist. “But why didn’t you tell me?”

“About being Spider-Man? I wanted to protect you from Norman. Then after the funeral it just got more complicated. I didn’t want to hurt you. Please, Harry, believe me.” 

“Oh.”

“And,” Peter said, free hand grasping Harry bicep, “You’re hurt too, don’t leave now.”

Harry couldn’t resist. He took one steadying breath and slipped out of his shirt. He moved to the bed to put Peter’s injured leg on his lap, but Peter stopped him. His hand was warm on Harry’s thigh.

“Your pants,” Peter said, gazing down at Harry’s soot covered chinos. 

“I carried you from an explosion sight, what do you expect.” At Peter’s glare, Harry nodded and slipped out of the gray pants, stripping to his boxers. Peter had seen him in just boxers thousands of times, but somehow this time was different. It was almost… intimate. Harry assumed his position with Peter’s knee just above his crotch. 

What followed was a mixture of heat and small gasps as Harry and Peter cleaned and patched each other’s wounds. When Peter was done wrapping the cut at Harry’s bicep, Harry moved his surgical needle and thread into his hands. 

“Does this happen a lot,” Harry asked Peter to distract him as he plunged the needle into the torn skin. 

“Ahh,” Peter hissed, “More than I’d like, yeah.” The boy moved to clutch the bruise at his ribs when he jostled in pain. “I- agh- I heal fast. It’s one of my abilities.” 

“But you still feel the pain,” Harry said, grasping at Peter’s thigh. 

“I forget what it feels like every time. I don’t think I’d keep doing this if I remembered. Did you know that the pain of childbirth is so terrible that mothers forget how bad it is. That’s why they do it again, because they forget.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, a smirk on his cheeks, “Are you comparing your pain to childbirth,” he said, tugging the thread tight. 

“Fu- You ass.” Peter smacked Harry’s arm. 

Their eye contact lingered for a moment too long and Peter’s face shifted to a bright red.  
Harry was almost glad, knowing his best friend was going to be okay. They were going to be okay. 

The explosion that caused all this was just a simple villain on the street— the street that Harry so conveniently had to cross to get to his favorite cafe. The villain had blown up a nearby shop, Spider-Man inside, and Harry had rushed inside to help get civilians out. Only when he saw Peter’s eyes behind the shattered bug lenses did Harry understand. 

“Are you still mad,” Peter asked just as Harry finished the stitching. His hand was on Harry’s arm, holding it tightly. 

“Oh I’m furious, but I love you, Pete,” Harry said as he had so many times before. “I can’t ignore that.” He saw Peter gaze down at his lips. Harry did the same, noticing the blood and the bruise near his chin. With tender fingers, Harry moved to brush the blood away, but his thumb caught Peter’s bottom lip. 

“Harry,” Peter gasped, moving his hand to Harry’s neck. His fingers intertwined with Harry’s hair. “I want-”

Harry flinched as Peter ran his hand over his jaw, catching the cut there. 

“Sorry,” Peter began. 

“Pete.” Harry drew closer and closed the gap between them. Their lips collided in a passionate kiss and Harry moved to touch Peter’s cheek and the small of his back. Skin on skin. Beyond the iron in his tongue, Harry could taste everything he loved about Peter. 

It was late night conversations, accidental touches, and the everlasting yearning to be close.

Peter’s hand was in Harry’s hair as he pulled him even closer which Harry didn’t think that was possible until then. 

Sliding his palm from the small of Peter’s back, Harry gently traced the other boy’s thigh. Peter let loose a sound that Harry wanted to record and play it over and over until his ears bled. He moved his hand higher trying to get the reaction again, only to catch on Peter’s suit.  
He was kissing Spider-Man. 

Peter broke the kiss, ears red. The bruise on his cheek grew darker with the blush. “Wait— Get me out of this.”

Harry shifted his position now, kneeling on his own bed at Peter’s feet. Embarrassed, Harry came to the knowledge that Peter could see what a mess he was between his legs, only concealed by a thin black fabric. 

Fingers were at Peter’s tights in an instant, but no matter how fast he wanted to take them off him, Harry had to be careful near the stitches. 

“Gah- This is torture,” Peter said, eyes closed as he bit his lip.

“You’re not the only one.” 

Peter’s eyes flicked open just for a moment before Harry brought another kiss to his lips. This time Harry was the one making noise as he felt a hand roam to his ass, slipping under the elastic of his boxers. 

In another span of infinite moments, Harry’s boxers were somewhere behind him and Peter lay underneath him, fully exposed and bright red. He was on Peter’s neck, feeling skin against his stomach. 

Harry took extra caution as he trailed kisses down his friend’s injured body. One on his collar, the next, his peck. He was already cursing himself for the bandage job on Peter’s stomach that covered the majority of his abs. Instead, he skipped to kissing the v shape below Peter’s naval and then his hips. 

Then he was tasting another part of Peter Parker that he’d yet to, wondering why they hadn’t been doing this since the day Peter turned 18. 

“Harry,” Peter gripped at Harry’s hair, hard. 

Harry took his sweet time making his way back to Peter’s lips, retracing his path all the way up. He groaned as he pressed into Peter. Suddenly, he felt a hand between his legs, touching him in a way that was terrifying, yet the most vivid mixture of pleasure and want he’d experienced. Harry felt hot, very hot. He was falling onto Peter before he even realized it was over. 

Their breaths were uneven, chests rapid and dangerous. Harry wanted to twist over to release his body weight off Peter, but the gash at his back prevented anything like that. He settled for half on— half off Peter’s uninjured side. 

Peter pressed a wet kiss to Harry’s neck, laughing as he did so. 

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh,” Peter chuckled, “This is not how I thought today was going to go.” 

“Yeah? Step into my shoes,” Harry retorted, though he couldn’t help but laugh. Then a beat, “Is super stamina a part of your abilities too?” 

Peter was pushing Harry off of him, grunting as he propped himself up. “That’s a question you’ll find out on a day when i’m not bleeding through my bandages.” 

Hurriedly, Harry shot up too. With the adrenaline gone, Harry’s rush was replaced with pain. He cursed as he followed a limping Peter to the bathroom with the bandages in tow.

Peter took a rag and soaked it under the faucet. Weight shifted to his good leg, he began cleaning himself of the aftermath of the explosion and everything that had just occurred.

Harry took over when Peter strained his bruised ribs. He was less cautious with his hands now, relishing in every piece of flesh he could touch. Harry had wanted to be like this with Peter for years now, and finally after it's happened he found himself wondering how. 

“You’ve saved my life more times than I can count,” Harry observed, “After every terrible thing I said about you, you still stuck with me. Why?”

“Because Harry,” Peter said, “You’re smart and amazing, and you may not have supported Spider-Man, but you’ve always supported Peter Parker.” He placed a tender kiss on Harry’s lips.

“Oh god,” Harry said, “What about M.J?”

Peter shot him a look which he recognized as Peter’s, are you that stupid, look. “We broke up last week, we couldn’t meet each other’s needs— it was mutual. She and I are still friends though.”

Harry exhaled in relief. He grabbed the bandages and began dressing Peter's wounds again. Without bandages on his torso, Harry could fully admire Peter’s sculpted abs. They were all because of Peter’s superpowers, but were nonetheless truly beautiful. 

“Okay,” Peter said once Harry was done, “Let me see your back.”

Harry pivoted, catching sight of the cut. It felt worse than it looked. 

Peter wrapped it again, stealing kisses as he did so. He wore a smug look on his face, “Don’t get excited, Osborn. I’m taking some meds and passing out after this.”

Harry tiredly obliged and walked back to his bed, stripping the stained sheets and replacing them quickly with clean ones. He helped Peter from the bathroom to the bed.

Without another thought they were laying together, Harry on his chest and Peter on his back. The sudden surprise of sleeping together was gone when Harry closed his eyes and drifted quickly off to sleep.


End file.
